Haze of Admiration
by Shini-Kender
Summary: Urahara KisukeKurotsuchi Mayuri. Mayuri becomes a vice captain and his fascination with a certain man leads him to defeat. Present for Rae. Spoilers for former captain of the twelfth.


There were five of them in that room. Five seated members of various divisions, each with a stack of neatly out-lined papers in front of them. And Kurotsuchi Mayuri was vastly familiar with the subjects of each of them. Because, in one way or another, he had managed to sabotage them all.

--

He hadn't intended to enter into the Gotei-13. Unlike many of his classmates, he sought only to obtain the proper training and return to his own devices post-graduation. There was no real need to sacrifice his life fighting hollows, fodder for Chuou-46 to use as they pleased.

That had changed for him, oddly enough, on the final day of his senior exams and he still did not fully understand why. The exams were simple enough. The practical had been cleared with little effort on his part, rote memorization of kidou coming through where inexperience at fighting failed. This final scrap of paper, hardly worth his time, would decide little if nothing.

Mayuri crumpled a piece of paper around the base of the ink stone and worked free a splotch of ink, drawing it back and forth as he pondered the final few questions. There wasn't much left, two personal opinion responses (worthless at best, but he did not intend to fail because he didn't answer the fool things) and the final question of what he intended to do post graduation. Or more so what division he intended to apply for entrance into.

A hand fell onto his head, tracing briefly through the blue curls that had brought Mayuri many stares, much to his derision. Mayuri tensed under the touch. Why did they even bother with proctors this late in the exams? He scowled, pulling away from the hand, glaring up at the offender, yellow eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of the tell-tale white of a captain's haori.

It was rare for a captain to visit the school, even rarer for them to visit the classroom. Teachers prepared reports on promising students on a quarterly basis to save them that trouble and captains would summon individual students by virtue of merit to talk to them about entering their division. Mayuri hadn't been called to any of these. He was not an overachiever. Grades were of little import as long as he passed. He had no interest in entering the Gotei-13, having only used the school's resources to further his study of science.

The captain blinked down at him, gray eyes surveying the indignant boy.

"I've heard things about your performance in science," he said softly, "Best in your class there, right?"

Mayuri's eyes narrowed suspiciously. What was he getting at? Captains didn't proctor tests. None of the squads specialized in science. What was the man's goal?

The man grinned and shook his head, "I read your reports on the hell butterflies. Very interesting."

Mayuri eyed him. The praise was welcome, yes. And the fact that it was coming from a captain made it all the more so. But it didn't change the fact that it was one of his last days of school, why would someone approach him now? Why would it matter that his reports on hell butterflies had been so... interesting. Nevertheless, he felt his cheeks flush a little with an awkward sense of pride, even as he forced himself to keep that same sense of caution.

"What of it?" he whispered, "If you hadn't noticed, this is a testing area, sir."

The captain's grin widened slightly, "Nothing, just thought I'd mention it. Although your theory on their antennae-" he tapped his chin absently, "-you might want to look into it. And what you said about the wings, well... You didn't have the resources, so I can't blame you for assuming that..."

The heady flush of pride slowed as Mayuri wanted nothing less to demand what. Who was this man to assume that something in his research was wrong? And what holes had he found? Mayuri's work on that project had been flawless, he had thought. There had never been something so concisely written about the hell butterflies. He knew it. All his teachers had said so.

"What do you mean?" he asked, the ink stone forgotten, the final questions unanswered in the face of this new challenge of sorts.

The man just shook his head, "Don't mind it, Kurotsuchi-san. I just wanted to see who it was, that's all." He moved on, glancing over his shoulder at something (or was it someone? Mayuri thought, catching sight of a flustered vice captain appearing at the other end of the room). The captain raised a hand in farewell and yellow eyes fixed on the insignia on his back.

Twelfth division. He had never considered the Gotei-13 seriously. He had never intended to join it. But at that moment, he grabbed his brush. Ignoring the personal questions, he wet his brush in the dark ink and matched the insignia on the man's back with four simple brush strokes in the final answer space, sealing his fate. He would apply to join this division. He would find out who this man was. He'd make the captain answer his questions.

--

Years had passed since then. And Mayuri didn't have his answers. But he did have a seat, gained through determination, forcing his way through the ranks. It wasn't as if he wanted the power, in a way, perhaps he did. But, what he wanted most was the attention of this captain, this Urahara Kisuke, the enigma that lead the twelfth. And the only way to obtain that was by getting a seat.

Or by doing what he was doing at present.

The twelfth division had recently undergone massive changes. Urahara, its proud captain had been chosen to head the newly founded Research and Development Department, something he had designed in order to further his work in hollow fighting technology and improving life for shinigami in general.

However, with the great achievement came the request for the resignation of his current vice captain, the one that had nearly run the division while Urahara had devoted himself solely to the creation of the Department. The vice captain had been convicted for overstepping the bounds of their position, forging many documents to save themselves the trouble of having to hunt down the ever-elusive captain. And, most importantly in Mayuri's opinion, they had let themselves get caught.

Thus, a new vice captain was needed. And, at Urahara's request, it was not through a ranking match as protocol required. The requirements were simple. As the vice captain of the twelfth would be expected not only to aid the captain in the running of the division, but to do significant work in the Department as well, applicants were required to present before a committee a research proposal, outlined completely and preliminary tests run.

Now, Mayuri sat with seated members of various divisions, his research, the only one untainted by his hand. This drive, this need to meet the captain of his division, to be able to understand what went on in his mind had grown. He needed to know. He needed to fully grasp it. And he'd give anything in his power to do so, even sabotage the research of those around him. Even injure them, as he had to the unfortunate fourth division third seat whose research was kept so clandestine that he was unable to alter it. Their unfortunate encounter with a hollow had been something that had taken a great amount of effort on his part, but was more than worth it to bring him to where he sat now.

He rose as his name was called. The committee was ready and his report would be the one to wow them that day. Of that he was certain. He strode into the room with confidence in his stride and a soft, eerily calm smile on his face. There was nothing to worry about the committee.

Mayuri laid out his papers on the desk in front of him. The members of the committee were of a varied lot. Some were old, well past their prime, Chuou-46 representatives to oversee this bizarre selection process. Others were division members, higher ranked than he was, but not so ambitious to seek the vice captaincy, not when it required scientific thought. He dismissed them off-handedly. Anything he said, anything he did, would impress them. He knew it, even if they were giving him level (and oft bored) gazes at present. Finally, there was the man he was here to see. The only person that really needed to hear his report was the man at the end of the table, sandy hair hanging shaggily about his calm, mild face. It was to him, Mayuri directed as he began.

The words easily flowed from his lips with a trace of superiority and a hint of derision. He knew exactly what he was talking about, even if he was certain only one member of the assembled knew it as well. He proposed a simple plan, an idea he had nurtured from his time at the academy when studying the aftermath of human death. It seemed a waste not to use the empty shell the soul left behind and he knew just how to fill it.

Modified souls. He had studied the crude proxy souls of the time. They were functional at best, but they could be so much more and that was what he laid out in front of all of them that day, in the simplest terms so even the doddering Chuou-46 representatives would understand, so that the light of knowledge would flicker in the eyes of his division mates. And, most of all, so that those gray eyes would fix on him, and instead of an enigmatic smile, there'd be a smile of shared knowledge, as if the captain had realized that in this young man, there was a kindred soul of brilliance.

Mayuri felt the sweat on his palms rise as he reached the climax of his presentation. He had avoided eye contact with the captain until then. While to him the opinion of the others didn't matter to him, it did matter that they were suitably impressed by his work, so as not to sway the vote against him. But at this point of the speech, when he knew they were won. When he knew there was nothing to stand in his way, he looked up to the captain, face shining in near-exhilaration. He had done it. He knew he had done it.

But the captain wasn't looking at him. The gray eyes he thought would share in every rise of his brilliance focused steadily on the table. For the first time in his speech, Mayuri's voice faltered. He gulped slightly, eyes flickering nervously. He had done something wrong. Why wasn't the captain looking at him? The speech he had worked so hard on, the presentation he had outlined so well, everything was flawless. There was nothing that could have been wrong. Nothing that should have gone wrong.

At his silence, the captain's gaze lifted to settle on him. But no relief flowed through the vice captain. Instead a lingering sense of dread set in on him. The gaze wasn't one lit with fascination; there was a hint of lingering sadness in it.

"What of the souls, Kurotsuchi-kun?" the captain voiced. And Mayuri was at loss for words. What of the souls? Why was that important? What was important was that he had the research. He had the stunning report. What was important was that he was here. That he should receive the position at the captain's side. Who cared about the souls? There was no need for them to do anything but serve. There was no need for them to do anything but fulfill the functions that were given to them by the naturally superior shinigami. Why Urahara did not understand this, Mayuri did not know.

"What do you mean the souls, sir?" he asked.

--

There were seventeen in total. Seventeen round globes, far superior to the proxy souls of that time. Each one he had imbued with some talent that would set them apart from the mortal masses and make them superior creations in the fight against hollows. They would work in teams, under the leadership of a shinigami superior officer. No longer would there be a need for shinigami to act as fodder (although he had to admit many a death due to hollow seemed appropriate justice in a Darwinistic sense).

But the project was scrapped just as he finished the last touches on it. Every soul he had spent countless hours, weeks, months on was trashed by a nameless order given out sometime that morning.

Mayuri slumped in his seat, fingers tracing through his hair in frustration. Where was that genius now? That genius that he had so flaunted in front of the committee. The genius that gave him the badge that shone so proudly on his arm. Stupid. All of this work to get near to the captain, to share in his research, for their crossing of minds was for naught. He had barely even seen the man since his ascension in ranks.

Was the captain regretting it now? Letting him rise in the ranks, giving him the funds to explore this research proposal?

The clatter of a plate settling on the desk in front of him and he realized the captain was there. Shaggy hair surrounding a cheerful face invaded his yellow-eyed vision, as a haori-swathed hand reached into his vision with a plate filled with cupcakes.

"I heard about the order for their destruction," Urahara mused, gesturing for the vice captain to take a cupcake as he settled in the chair across from him.

Mayuri raised an eyebrow, taking the cupcake, perplexed. Why had the captain come to visit him now? Was it to talk about demoting him? He tugged at the paper wrapping, eyes darting up to watch the captain suspiciously.

Kisuke smiled lazily at his subordinate, taking an easy bite of the cupcake. "It wasn't a bad project, Mayu-chan." His gray eyes lingered on Mayuri as he chewed pensively on the baked good.

Mayuri nodded, not quite certain where this was leading. He had failed the captain, right? He had been accepted on merit of his research. The project hadn't even entered into preliminary tests before it had been ditched. He sunk perfect teeth into the sweet. It wasn't bad, but his stomach churned slightly. It just wasn't the time for baked goods, not when the taste of failure bit so deeply into him.

Kisuke leaned forward, hand resting gently on Mayuri's shoulder and the vice captain's pulse jumped, throwing him out of distraction to full attention. A trace of hope rose as the captain leaned forward. He hadn't hoped for this much, just the chance to study under him had been enough, but in this moment he closed his eyes as Kisuke drew closer.

There was a touch of wetness as he licked the icing from Mayuri's lips.

"Better luck next time, Mayu-chan," he smiled, "I know you were the right choice for a vice captain." He gave the blue hair a dismissive pat before pulling away and sweeping from the lab, polishing off the cupcake as he went.

Mayuri's hand rose, touching the place where Kisuke's tongue had met his lips. Shoulders began to quiver as the taste of the cupcake rose and met with something foul as he heard Urahara's voice lilt through the cool evening air.

"Yoruichi-san, Whatever could you be doing out here so late I wonder?"

Disgusting, disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. His shoulders shook slightly. How could he let himself get his hopes up like that over... something so stupid? He shoved the plate of cupcakes aside. He'd show the captain. He'd show Urahara exactly what he could do.

--

Yoruichi frowned at Urahara as he left the building. "I just heard about the order. Why trash the project?"

Urahara shook his head, "It wasn't the project I promoted him for in the first place, Yoruichi-san."

He crouched on the porch, looking out into the night sky, "He was the only candidate I was considering in the first place." 


End file.
